Bite Me
by SevenAgainstThebes
Summary: Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts is never normal. An especially libidinous flock of Veela make an appearance.


Title: Bite Me  
Author: SevenAgainstThebes (Sevenagainst_thebes@yahoo.com)  
Rating: PG-13  
Keywords: HG/SS  
Summary: Valentine's Day at Hogwarts is never normal. An especially libidinous flock of Veela make an appearance.   
Archive: I only request that you tell me where this fic goes :)  
Disclaimer: HP and co. are not mine and never will be.  


- ~ ♥ ~ -

**Bite Me**

"Stop goggling, Ackerley, and get to class! Five points from Ravenclaw!" Snape snapped.   
  
The frightened boy snatched up his book bag and darted down the hallway. "And you," Snape turned to address the Veela who was standing there, looking at him with wide-eyed innocence. "I would suggest that you not stand in the corridors between classes. The feeble-minded male students of this school do not need more distraction."  
  
The Veela only smiled and walked away slowly (and with as much hip swivel action as possible), pausing every now and then to cast amorous glances back at the annoyed Potions master. His lip curled in disgust.   
  
"Hello Severus," Dumbledore appeared out of nowhere beside him.   
  
Snape only nodded in acknowledgement.   
  
Dumbledore smiled at him. "Lemon drop?" he offered, procuring the Muggle treat from thin air. Snape rolled his eyes; it was times like these that the venerable old wizard seemed more like an amateur magician performing magic tricks at a child's birthday party.  
  
Snape shook his head. "I've told you before, Headmaster, I'm allergic to those."   
  
That was a lie, but Snape had decided to abstain from accepting any proffered sugary treats from Dumbledore ever since he discovered the origin of those lemon drops -- a large beat up tin container that dated back to 1979.  
  
"Ah, yes. That's too bad then," Dumbledore patted him on the arm. "However, I'm glad, Severus, to see that you aren't allergic to some of the finer and more _ aesthetic_ pleasures that life has to offer you." His blue eyes were twinkling.  
  
From Snape's previous experience, twinkling was not good. Twinkling was associated with another of the Headmaster's nonsensical ideas on faculty bonding (Snape cringed at the memory of being locked in a room for two hours with Trelawney). Twinkling was a precursor to anything involving the Boy-Who-Lived. Twinkling happened whenever Gryffindor beat out Slytherin for the umpteenth time in the House Cup competition.   
  
And damn it, twinkling was for Christmas trees that were loaded down with too many strings of lights and glass baubles.   
  
Although...if Snape squinted and tilted his head the right way...Dumbledore did bring to mind an oddly coloured and lopsided bit of shrubbery.   
  
"Is something the matter, Severus?"  
  
"No, nothing's wrong, Headmaster. Just a little dust in my eye."  
  
"Severus," Dumbledore chuckled. "there's no need for you to lie to me. I may be an old man, but I am certainly not stupid."  
  
Snape frowned. "What exactly are you insinuating?"  
  
Dumbledore leaned towards him. "If you've got your eye on one of our esteemed guests, you can trust me not to speak a word of your little fancy to any of our resident gossips," he whispered conspiratorially. "Just because we're in the middle of a war doesn't mean that love can't _bloom_--especially between allies."  
  
As if on cue, a flock of Veela fluttered past them in the hallway; a few of them even ventured to pout and flutter their eyelashes at Snape.   
  
"Surely you haven't forgotten that today is Valentine's Day?"   
  
A particularly bold Veela looked Snape up and down, her eyes glittering with a thousand lascivious promises, and having gotten his shocked attention, ran her hands suggestively over her body. At Snape's utterly horrified look, Dumbledore continued speaking, "No need to worry; you've still got the rest of the day to make your move."  
  
"I assure you Albus, I am most certainly _ not_ after those over-sexed creatures," Snape plucked at a bit of imaginary lint on his sleeve as he studiously tried to ignore the two Veela who were doing the bump-and-grind in the middle of the corridor.   
  
"Oh?"  
  
"It's bad enough that every hormone-addled male student has been distracted by those flashy sirens. The school doesn't need half the faculty sidetracked and slobbering at the mouth along with them."  
  
"Are they not beautiful to you?"  
  
Snape snorted. It seemed to be the only reply that Dumbledore would get to his question.  
  
"Ah well." The Headmaster rummaged through the many pockets of his robes and pulled out a small lurid pink box. "A treat for the day, Severus?"   
  
Eyeing the box warily, Snape made no move to take it from Dumbledore's hand. "I might be allergic to those as well," he offered in excuse.  
  
"I only bought these today so you need not worry about 'expiration dates'," Dumbledore said, as he forcibly pushed the box into Snape's hand.  
  
"WEASLEY'S WIZARD WHEEZES PRESENTS: CUPID'S CONVERSATION HEARTS" was printed in bold red print and a cheekily smiling Cupid (which bore more than a passing resemblance to Lockheart) fluttered back and forth on the front of the box. He flipped open the top and shook out a few of the sweets. Three tiny coloured hearts tumbled out, each of them inscribed with a short message.   
  
A sickly brown one proclaimed: "UR HOT"   
  
'_And you're the colour of day old barf_', he thought as he slipped the heart back into the box.   
  
"KISS ME" was the urgent message from a hot pink heart.  
  
'_Very unlikely._'  
  
"I WILL" declared a violently lime coloured heart.  
  
'_Will what? Perform sexual favours_?' Sliding the last one back into the box, he turned to give the candy back to Dumbledore. He knew that the Headmaster's taste in sweets ran towards the Muggle (and oftentimes strange) end of the spectrum but this was...juvenile.   
  
"It pains me to say this Albus, but I must decline your generous gift."  
  
Dumbledore chuckled and shook his head. "Give them a try! They are quite good, Severus, you can trust me on that."   
  
"But they're _ conversation_ hearts!" Snape shook the box for emphasis. "And there's no one in this castle I'd like to talk to-especially utilizing these ridiculous Muggle sweets. Have you even _ looked_ at them? This one," he plucked a yellow heart out of the box. "it says: 'Bite Me.' What kind of message is that? Why do they even _ need_ messages? Aren't people in love supposed to actually talk to each other?"   
  
He looked up to get Dumbledore's reaction and got none.  
  
Dumbledore had gone.  
  
And he was still stuck with the conversation hearts.   
  
The sound of voices filled the corridor and as they came closer, Snape quickly tried to hide the nauseatingly pink box in one of the pockets of his academic robes. To his dismay, the top of the box flipped open once more and the hearts spilled upon the floor. He scrambled after the hearts and jammed them back into the box; just in time for him to lean against the wall with arms crossed in front of his chest and pink box clutched tightly in one hand. The students streamed past him, with not even a glance in his direction.   
  
After they had passed by, he made his way to the staircase leading to the dungeons and "accidentally" dropped the box behind a suit of armour ('_If Albus asks, I can just say I must have misplaced them somewhere._') But before he put one foot on the stairs, he heard a voice calling after him.   
  
"Professor! You dropped this!" Hermione Granger held out the Valentine's Conversation Hearts box. "I didn't know you liked these; they're my favourite!"   
  
He put on his fiercest scowl. "What makes you think they're mine?"  
  
"I saw you drop them, Professor," she opened the box and shook a few of the hearts into her hand. "Oh wow, some of these have messages I've never even _ seen_ before."  
  
"Yes, well, I'll be taking them back now." He moved to take them from her hand.   
  
She kept them from his reach. "But I thought you didn't like them."  
  
"I don't. They're silly little treats for lovesick fools."  
  
"Have you even tried them? They're quite good," Hermione picked up the yellow "BITE ME" heart. "How funny, it even fits your personality! Look, it says--"   
  
Snape snatched the heart from her fingers, put it in his mouth and chewed furiously. "It says, 'Bite Me,' I know, I saw it already. There. I tried one. Now, go away, Miss Granger."  
  
But she wouldn't go away.   
  
In fact, Hermione had flung herself at him and was now nibbling slowly on his ear.   
  
"What are you _doing_?" he hissed, trying to push her away. "Get off me!"  
  
"I can't!"  
  
"Stop fooling around, Miss Granger! 50 points from Gryffindor!"   
  
Her mouth wandered down to his neck. "You can take off all the points you want, but I seriously can't pull away!"  
  
"Bloody hell, just what is going on here?!" Gods, did his voice just go up an octave?   
  
"The box, look at the box!"   
  
The Lockheart Cupid on the box leered at him as he tried to read the fine print: _ Warning - Hearts contain an aphrodisiac and an attraction charm. Lasts for an hour. Use wisely to spice up your love life._  
  
He wasn't pleased. And neither was Hermione when he read it aloud to her.   
  
"I can't _ believe_ you didn't check the label on the box!"  
  
"You were the one who insisted upon my trying one!"  
  
"Oh! So _ I'm_ the one at fault?" She nibbled harder on his neck.  
  
"Ow!"

- ~ ♥ ~ -

[Ten minutes later...]

"I think we'd better move."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"_Anywhere_. Do you think I want everyone to see us like this?" Hermione said crossly. She was getting tired of standing on tiptoe to nibble at his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. "This will compromise my status as Head Girl!"  
  
"You forget, Miss Granger, that _ my job_ will also be at stake," he managed to manoeuvre his arms about her waist to better support her as they staggered over to a classroom he knew was empty. They passed by a sniggering suit of armour standing just outside the door. Summoning what was left of his dignity, he shifted Hermione's weight and stood as tall as possible. "Sod off you rusting piece of scrap metal or I'll get Filch to give you a good cleaning," he threatened.   
  
And it would have qualified as a threat had he not looked so much like a momma koala bear with her cub. 

- ~ ♥ ~ -

[Twenty minutes...]

He sat down in a chair and shifted her legs so that she was straddling his lap instead of clinging to him strangely ('_As if _ that's_ a better position_.') "Aren't you tired of biting at my neck?"   
  
"I'm not _biting_, I'm _nibbling_. You don't want me to draw _blood_, do you?" Snape couldn't understand how she managed to sound so patronizing in a situation as ridiculous as this. And he hated how she enunciated words. "I'm not that tired...but your skin is starting to bruise."  
  
He had visions of himself appearing in front of Potions lessons the next day looking like he had been mauled by a vampire with blunt teeth. "Do you happen to have concealer with you?"  
  
"I didn't know you knew so much about makeup."  
  
"I don't. I just remember my girlfriends talking about it."  
  
"You had _girlfriends_?"  
  
"Shocked?"  
  
"Very."

- ~ ♥ ~ -

[Thirty minutes...]

"If you don't mind, Miss Granger, could you move to the other side of my neck? I have a slight itch there." 

- ~ ♥ ~ -

[Forty minutes...]

Snape sighed. 

  
As a youth and even now as an adult, he wasn't prone to tender sentiments or romantic frippery. His previous girlfriends were there for one reason only-a young man could only live so long without a vent for his raging hormones (and his hand didn't count)-and now, aside from his classes, his Potions research took up much of his time. Love was not a word that he thought about fondly, if at all. So Valentine's Day had always been a joke to him; another day set up by the money-grubbing individuals of the world to prey upon hapless lovers.  
  
It seemed to him that the situation was quite ironic: to be stuck in an empty classroom on Valentine's Day, a victim to a novelty item that was created especially for the purpose of making even more money from couples who (in his opinion) frankly didn't _ need_ help with their love lives.   
  
He supposed they got sex often enough (at least _ he_ did back in the day). What more could they possibly want?   
  
Snape exhaled noisily.  
  
"Oh shut up, it's not like _ you_ have to do anything," was the mumbled response to his sigh.   
  
Which abruptly brought his thoughts to his co-victim in this strange incident.   
  
Hermione Granger. The annoying Gryffindor. The Head Girl.  
  
Who was known for holding the speed record in getting a hand up in the air after a question was asked in class.  
  
Whom he had found sleeping in the Restricted Section of the library and derived perverse pleasure from scaring her awake and then taking 100 points from Gryffindor.  
  
Who had quickly gotten over her fear of him and could be as snarky as himself.  
  
Who had gotten a sort of revenge by pushing Trelawney at him as he passed under the enchanted mistletoe.   
  
Who had suffered a counterattack of his own devising whereby she found her front teeth growing to alarming lengths once again.  
  
Who presently had her head buried in his neck.  
  
Whose teeth (magically restored once again to their non-bucktoothed state) was scraping gently against the sensitive skin of his throat.   
  
Whose lips were soft as she teasingly mouthed her way around the lightly mottled bruising on his skin.  
  
He supposed he might have made a sound or shifted his position in the chair because she stopped nipping at his neck just rested her head under his chin. Was the attraction charm wearing off? A flick of her tongue against the hollow of his throat gave him the answer he needed. She did it a second time and he found the sensation quite pleasurable.   
  
The thought disturbed him.  
  
'_For the love of Merlin, get a grip on yourself. She's a student!_' But even that didn't deter him as he only pulled her closer and started stroking her hair.   
  
"Herm-Miss Granger," he managed to catch himself in time. His mind struggled against the influence of the aphrodisiac. What was it he wanted to say? "You are of age?"   
  
'_Damn it._' That was most definitely not what he meant to say.  
  
Hermione only lifted her head up to smile at him.   
  
"Right," he studied her carefully. "It's the aphrodisiac and the attraction charm, you know. This isn't real."  
  
She just stared at him. 'Was she even comprehending this?'  
  
"You might...you might regret this. Potter and Weasley will not like it," he paused and then added. "And I'm a very hateful man."  
  
Still he got no response from her. "Miss Granger, are you even listening to me?"  
  
"Professor, in the book 'Love Magic, Charms, Philters and Potions,' researcher Anteros Spiranthes explicitly states that love charms and aphrodisiacs work by magically transferring amorous feelings from one person to another," she gave him a sly look and shifted her position on his lap. "And ever since the end of 5th year, I've had this schoolgirl _ crush_ on a certain potions professor."  
  
A crush. That was something he never had to deal with during his years of teaching. And coming from Hermione Granger, no less. Was the girl sane?  
  
"You?"   
  
"Yes me."  
  
"You have a crush. On me." He tried to make sense of this.  
  
"No, I'm talking about the _ other_ potions professor at Hogwarts. Of _ course_ you!"   
  
"I can't understand why. I am, as I said before, not easy to like. And it's not easy for me to like other people," he said, attempting to ignore the effect her warm wriggling weight on his lap had on him.  
  
Hermione smirked. "Well, there's one part of your anatomy that seems to like me."  
  
"That was a horrendously bad pick up line."  
  
"All the good ones are bad." She tilted her head and looked at him thoughtfully. "Seriously though, I've always respected you; you're an intelligent man, fiercely loyal to the Order and brave."  
  
"A little idealistic, aren't we?"  
  
"About you? Never."  
  
"If so, I fail to understand why you persist in your crush."  
  
"Maybe you should stop thinking so hard." She held out another of the candy hearts.  
  
"No thank you. One is enough."  
  
She shrugged. "More for me then." To his amazement, she promptly popped it in her mouth and smiled at him predatorily. "Touch me."  
  
His hands obligingly moved towards her body.   
  
'_It's just the aphrodisiac and the charm. She doesn't actually want this_,' he thought, his mind growing hazy with desire. Hermione moaned as he cupped her breasts through her school robes.  
  
"Stop teasing me you bastard."  
  
Snape lowered his head to kiss her. 'Or maybe she does.'

- ~ ♥ ~ -

[The next day...]

  
  
The students at Hogwarts were used to seeing strange things.   
  
Seeing Professor Snape wearing a Slytherin scarf wasn't anything new. It was cold and most students wore their own House scarves. It was Hermione Granger's reaction to him (every single time she spotted him) that puzzled many.   
  
She laughed; laughed long and hard and during breakfast, almost fell out of her seat at the Gryffindor table.  
  
Professor Snape didn't take off House points...although he _ did_ assign her detention with him every night for the rest of the year (shock could be seen on all the students' faces). But the Head Girl simply smiled.  
  
Now _ that_ was bizarre.

- ~ ♥ ~ -

The end.

  
Okay, I'm a tease.   
  
There should have been a bit of lemony goodness but I totally copped out (and I can't write sex, I'm horrible at it). If you want some recs for lemony fics (ff.net keeps on cutting off the urls when put them on here) e-mail me!  
  
Until next time,  
SevenAgainstThebes  



End file.
